


On The Care And Keeping of Cats

by nottodaythx



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: A cat - Freeform, Gen, downstairs antics, local demon still an idiot, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottodaythx/pseuds/nottodaythx
Summary: Sebastian knows exactly how he'd care for a cute little pet, if only he were allowed to have one.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	On The Care And Keeping of Cats

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime back when shit had not yet, as they say, gone down.

The other staff of the Phantomhive household had long since stopped wondering if their butler would join them at the table, but Sebastian had at least deigned to spend this particular evening in the servants' hall, along with the 'charming companion' he'd smuggled in. It was something of a novelty to see him thus, perched on the sofa and down to his shirtsleeves, flush with cheer, lavishing attention on the 'gorgeous creature' in his lap, which clearly couldn't quite decide whether or not to escape his clutches.

Bard slid Mey-Rin's stew down to her without tearing his eyes away from the spectacle, his cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. In fairness, she and Finny and Tanaka were doing the same, all sitting lined up on the far side of the table so they could stare right at the spectacle of the evening. The only one that didn't seem bothered was Snake, which Bard didn't get, because it wasn't every day they saw that living ice-sculpture, well...

Despite squirming out of his grasp, the current prisoner to Sebastian's affections apparently decided against escape. Instead, it turned a neat little circle, its razor claws pricking at the fine wool of his trousers, before it curled into a ball on his lap and began purring furiously.

Their wholly terrifying, freakishly competent, cold-bloodedly murderous butler heaved a helpless sigh and ascended to an entirely new, even higher plane of cat-induced rapture. (Mey-Rin also heaved a sigh, and ascended to a higher plane of Sebastian-induced rapture.)

"Cats are _perfect_ ," Sebastian informed them for at least the fifth time that night.

He didn't even look up to scold them for being ungraceful when Finny rested his elbow on the table and his cheek on his fist.

"If only _I_ could have a cat," he said wistfully, like a jilted maiden out of some penny-dreadful as interpreted by talentless, ale-boldened amateurs out on some wilting village green in the ass-end of nowhere.

"You–" _have a cat right there_ _!_ Bard started to say, before Mey-Rin elbowed him in the ribs.

Sebastian gave the thing a good skritch between the ears, all five fingers involved in ruffling up the slate-grey fur. "I would make up a basket with the finest featherbed, warm next to the fire," he cooed.

"Not _this_ fire, I hope. ...Says Goethe," Snake muttered from his spot crouched by the hearth. He had his 'friends' wrapped on him like bracelets and armbands and draped over his shoulders like a scarf. Bard couldn't imagine who'd hate that arrangement more, the snakes or the cat.

The cat yawned, rolled, and stre-e-etched, putting all of its claws and fangs on display before it settled belly up in the divot between Sebastian's thighs with all its little white-dipped toes curled over. Sebastian pressed his palms together and pressed his clasped hands against one cheek. Bard was pretty sure that the last time he saw that gesture, it was from Lady Elizabeth.

"You delightful creature! What a graceful little thing you are. So lithe, so lovely."

Mey-Rin poured from the pitcher of water about a foot too far left of her cup, her attention firmly on the butler's cat-fancying theatrics. Finny glanced down at the water dribbling into his lap before he guided her hand to the right spot with two fingers.

Sebastian, meanwhile, stroked his fingers through the thick ruff of fur on the cat's chest. "Ah, but perhaps too lithe. I can feel your ribs, my dear. That won't do at all. Shall I make you supper after your nap?" If he'd used that dumb syrupy tone on anything else in all of existence, it would have been a sure sign he was about to murder definitely their self-worth, maybe just them in general. "Some smoked salmon and a poached quail egg, hmm? Only the finest meal for such a fine young gentleman. How else will you grow into a big strong hunter?"

"Come on, Mister Sebastian." Bard keenly felt the absurdity of his being the voice of reason. "The young master's gonna be extra surly if he finds out you've been cooking fancy for a contraband kitty."

"Well I think it's sweet, it is!" Mey-Rin said, speaking half over him.

Sebastian looked up through his hair without rising from where he'd nearly bent double to rub his nose all over the cat's belly fur and—oh, oh no. That was the _scary_ smile; with the eyes and the teeth and the curious habit of falling out of memory until it very suddenly hadn't again. "I see no need tell the young master about this," he said, like a polite and cultured table-knife to the gut.

A little voice in Bard's head that sounded a lot like the butler reminded him that he was hired into this household for his tactical thinking. He decided to prove it right by sticking his nose in his pint instead, where it wasn't gonna get him in trouble. Sebastian seemed to be satisfied with that and went back to sticking his nose in cat belly, which actually seemed like a good way to get into a lot of very sharp trouble from where Bard was sitting.

"Ah, you're going to grow up so fast." Sebastian sighed again, back into the full swing of cat crazy. "It's a shame. You'll be rushing off to hunt and conquer in no time. If only you'd stay this small forever, hm? I'd take such good care of you."

That very morning, Sebastian had stood them in formation and delivered a blistering dressing-down with a twitching eye and a rictus grin so terrifying that Bard's testicles fully retreated back inside his body in self-defense and he expected his asshole to unclench sometime next Wednesday if they were all exceptionally lucky between now and then. Bard made the universally recognized gesture of ' _excuse me, do you see this bullshit_ ' to no one in particular, because no one was looking at him. And now, the very same evening, he was... Ah. Now it was Bard's turn to rest his head in his hands. This was probably _because_ the butler'd all but promised to personally escort them all to Hell that morning.

Bard had to say he preferred dirty pictures and cigarettes, but he supposed this was one way to blow off some steam.

"—and groom you. of course. I'd tie a nice silk ribbon around your neck right here–" Sebastian tickled the cat under the chin "–and you'd look very distinguished indeed. A proper little prince."

For some reason, Tanaka muffled a chuckle into his tea.

Sebastian's head snapped up and then tilted to the side as if he were listening for something. "Oh, for pity's sake," he said, immediately back to his usual low simmer of polite annoyance. He gathered the cat up into his arms and stood in that way he sometimes did when annoyed, where it seemed more like he was unfolding himself to occupy different space than traveling from one point to another. "What could he possibly be getting into at this time of night?"

His precious feline burden was deposited onto the table without so much as a by your leave, and then he was swooping out the door while still shrugging his tailcoat on. No one bothered to mention the silent call-bells; no one ever bothered to mention Sebastian's uniquely Earl-centered intuition anymore. Would have been rude, anyway. They were all odd ducks here.

"My, my." Tanaka paused to take a sip of his drink. "Featherbeds, smoked salmon, and silk ribbons. Our Mister Sebastian is quite _determined_ in his doting, isn't he?"

Bard sighed. "Finny, get that thing off the table."

"Sorry, little friend," Finny said softly as he reached one hand toward the cat.  The cat bared its teeth and swatted at him. He jerked his hand back and clutched it to his chest. "Hey!"

Snake finally came to join them at the table, although he kept to the furthest corner. Bard was thoroughly occupied with attempting to shoo the cat off the table without actually touching the cat, and so it was Tanaka who passed over his serving of dinner.

"At least this one isn't a tiger. ...Says Wilde."

Mey-Rin choked on her drink and needed a few good solid thumps on the back before she stopped sputtering. "A _tiger_?"

Snake glanced down their way, with an upturn to the corners of his lips so slight and hesitant it could hardly be called a grin. He was a tough one to read, their new footman, and shy too. "Black is... a peculiar fellow. ...Says Emily."

Bard shook his head. "I don't see why he likes cats so damn much. They're just so..."

The cat used one little white paw to push Finny's cup off the table, staring them down the whole time. At least it was Finny's drink; metal didn't shatter. Then it hopped off the table, marched fussily around the puddle while looking between it and them as if to ask, ' _and who dared to make this mess where I am walking_ _?_ ', and all the way to the back door where it sat with its nose turned up in the air. ' _You will open this door for me_ now _, scum._ '

"Ho, ho. I am certain it will come to you." Tanaka set his tea aside and stood. As usual, he tried to hide the way he braced old knees by pretending to brush his trousers off. "Now, I will see our guest out."

Meanwhile, Mey-Rin was waving Finny off. "You just finish your dinner. I'll sop this up, I will."

It wasn't until later that Bard put all the pieces together.

Sebastian stopped and peered in from the corridor, one hand balancing a tray that had all the fixings for the thankfully rare nowadays late-night warm milk. "I shan't be down again. I expect you to wash up and retire in a timely manner. I will not be forgiving if we have a repeat of today's nonsense on the morrow." He hesitated, glancing between them all with sharp, critical eyes. "Good night," he finished, somewhere between a farewell and a threat.

Bard scraped up the last of his stew and shoved it in his mouth. He pointed toward the corridor with his spoon. "...D'ya think he realizes," he started, mouth only a _little_ full.

"Bard!" Mey-Rin scolded.

"D'ya think he realizes, he's already got a cat?"

And for perhaps the first time ever with the Phantomhive servants in a room, there was absolute silence.

"...Huh. Says Wordsworth."

**Author's Note:**

> I have other, longer and much less light-hearted things sitting around half-written but tbh this fandom terrifies me. I think I will just lob this around the corner and duck, see what happens.


End file.
